Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Macedonia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Hasil Adkins to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by the Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neu! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool Moe Dee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
The Moleskins,
Matthew Halsall,
Rekid,
Quando Quango,
Silicon Teens,
Mo-Dettes,
10cc,
The Five Americans,
Chris Corsano,
Accadde A,
Traffic Nightmare,
JFA,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Toasters,
Scion,
Severed Heads,
Warsaw,
The New Christs,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Seeds,
Desert Stars,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Beau Brummels,
Mandrill,
X-Ray Spex,
ABC,
Susan Cadogan,
Los Fastidios,
Alphaville,
Todd Terry,
Sex Pistols,
Black Sheep,
The Detroit Cobras,
Morten Harket,
Scott Walker,
Public Image Ltd.,
Von Mondo,
Graham Central Station,
Jeru the Damaja,
Talk Talk,
Nirvana,
Pierre Henry,
The Kinks,
The Red Krayola,
Black Pus,
David Axelrod,
Absolute Body Control,
L. Decosne,
Andrew Hill,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bauhaus,
Gang of Four,
Roxy Music,
The Star Department,
Ituana,
MDC,
Neil Young,
The Gladiators,
The Techniques,
Boz Scaggs,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.